


Some Fading Glimmer

by archwrites (Arch)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Quest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 21:19:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arch/pseuds/archwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dumbledore may not have been blind or deaf, but now that he's gone, the fading glimmer of the Pensieve memories are all that Harry has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Fading Glimmer

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Know Your Enemy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10825) by [archwrites (Arch)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arch/pseuds/archwrites). 



The room was dim, cool, and dry. An auburn-haired Dumbledore sat beneath a lantern; he was reading an enormous ancient tome and taking notes in some sort of code. _Not the memory of destroying the ring Horcrux, then_, Harry thought regretfully as he watched this younger Dumbledore taking notes. _At least he's not wearing that purple suit,_ he reflected, and snorted back laughter even while tears pricked the backs of his eyes.

The book in which Dumbledore was absorbed had been written in a language Harry didn't know, although it looked vaguely familiar. Perhaps it too was encoded somehow. In any case, he was in no way pleased that this memory involved watching Dumbledore read a book in a different language and take notes in a code that Harry didn't know how to crack. "Should've brought Hermione," he muttered ruefully, but it was too late for that now -- despite his many trips into this Pensieve, he didn't really know how it worked, or whether he would ever get another opportunity to be in this memory. And this must be important somehow, or Dumbledore wouldn't have put it in the Pensieve.

So while Dumbledore wrote and wrote, Harry looked at the stacks of books. Most had Latin titles; none had English ones; but he could tell that most of them were about dragons. _Charlie would like these_, he thought. Bored with the books he couldn't read, he wandered over to the window, which overlooked a bleak landscape of frozen mountaintops. _Where are we?_ Harry wondered.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps outside approaching the door. Whirling around, he watched as Dumbledore quickly hid the book he was using, opening another book to a place he had marked just as the door finally opened and a tall, sallow-faced man entered, wearing long blood-red robes. "Are you finding what you are looking for, Herr Professor?" asked the newcomer.

Dumbledore beamed up at him. "Indeed I am, thank you, Herr Professor Eisenstein. Durmstrang's collection of research on dragons is unparalleled."

"We are proud of it."

"I am puzzled, though, by this rune." (_Runes_, Harry thought. _Of course. Why didn't I bring Hermione?_) "I have never seen it before; in fact, it appears to be a unique character," Dumbledore continued, pointing to a transcription in his notes. "Perhaps you can help me?"

The other man took a pair of spectacles from his robe and perched them on his nose. When he saw the symbol to which Dumbledore was pointing, he drew in his breath with a hiss. "I am sorry," he said. "I do not know this symbol, mein Herr. You must have copied wrong."

Harry could tell that Dumbledore was not surprised by this answer. In fact, given the similarities between this man's behavior and Professor Slughorn's behavior the previous school year, Harry thought he might be able to guess what the symbol meant, even though the German man denied knowing it.

"Ah, well," Dumbledore said. "That is always possible, although I have been most careful in my transcriptions. Still, there are some mysteries that I must be content never to solve, and this curious rune shall be one of them. Thank you all the same, Herr Professor. The hospitality of Durmstrang has been most generous these past weeks."

The Durmstrang professor bowed stiffly. "It has been our pleasure to welcome such a distinguished scholar," he replied, but Harry could see the fury on his face when he turned away from Dumbledore to leave the room.

Dumbledore's polite smile transformed into a frown the instant the door was closed. He withdrew the book he had hidden and placed it on the desk. Harry tried to read the title on the spine, but it was in German: _Verschiedene Abhandlungen des Altertums_. He didn't know what that meant, but he tried to cement it in his memory nonetheless. Meanwhile, Dumbledore took a scroll and transfigured it to look exactly like the German book of runes. Then he silently waved his wand over the original book in a complicated series of motions; the tome glowed green, then yellow, before he nodded with satisfaction and shrunk it to hide away in his robes. Quickly he gathered his belongings, sandwiched the second book among his notes, and strode out the door.

Harry followed, almost trotting to keep up with Dumbledore, who, contrary to all expectations, was apparently a book thief. From a short hallway, they emerged into a vast library the length of a Quidditch pitch, with books that climbed walls as high as the Great Hall at Hogwarts. But the most remarkable thing about the room was not its size, nor even the sheer number of books, but rather the shelves themselves. They had been enchanted to be semi-transparent, so that anyone looking the length of the room could see through the shelves to the students browsing among the books. The books turned solid again once they were taken off the translucent shelves, but the whole place gave Harry the shivers. _A ghost library_, he thought, _full of the Dark Arts._ He didn't blame Dumbledore for stealing one of these books, especially if that one was about Horcruxes; if he had his way, Harry would take this entire library of books about the Dark Arts and burn them so that there could be no more Voldemorts.

Just then a howling wail rose up, and every eye in the room snapped to the doorway, where Dumbledore was apologizing sheepishly to the deeply suspicious librarian, handing him the decoy book that he had hidden in his notes. "I'm terribly sorry," he repeated, "I simply didn't notice that the book had slipped in among my belongings."

The librarian shook his head as he waved his wand over Dumbledore's person. "I must inform Herr Professor Eisenstein."

"Might I arrange to take the book with me to Hogwarts, just for a brief time? It is extremely important to my research, you see."

"I am afraid that is impossible."

"Very well, then. My notes will simply have to suffice." Dumbledore bowed and left the room, and Harry found himself back in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.

Ron and Hermione flew to his side. "Well?" Hermione said, and Harry described the whole scene in as much detail as he could.

"He really should have taken you, Hermione," Ron said when Harry had finished. "Ancient Runes! Maybe they're not so useless after all."

"Oh, well-spotted, Ronald," Hermione replied frostily, but she was smiling all the same. "Harry, the book must hold a clue about how to destroy a Horcrux! That's the best reason for Dumbledore to have left that memory in the Pensieve."

"I wish he'd left the memory of how he actually _did_ destroy a Horcrux," Harry grumbled. "I want to know what happened with the ring."

"Maybe you need to know this before you can understand how he destroyed the ring," Hermione said. "Come on, we have a book to find. What's so funny, Ron?"

"I can't believe that Dumbledore actually stole something from Durmstrang," Ron replied, grinning widely. "That is bloody _brilliant_."

::

"So I reckon the spells on the first book were to prevent that alarm from going off, but then why would Dumbledore try to sneak out with the other book?" Ron asked as they rooted around Dumbledore's -- _McGonagall's_ \-- office.

"It was probably a ruse to make the Durmstrang professors think he was interested in an entirely different topic." Hermione's voice was muffled by the cabinet that had swallowed the entire upper half of her body. She emerged with even bushier hair than usual. "I think this cabinet just contains some of Professor McGonagall's extra robes. They're all tartan."

The Headmaster's office proved to contain far fewer interesting items than Harry had hoped it would. Even the portraits of the previous headmasters were ignoring them, offended because Hermione had snapped at them earlier for not having paid close enough attention to what had happened to Dumbledore's belongings.

"What I want to know is why Dumbledore was interested in Horcruxes that long ago," Harry mused a few minutes later, as he pulled a stack of blank parchment from one of the desk drawers.

"How long ago was it?" Ron asked, uncapping a long ornate tube and shaking out the contents, which included three very old Bertie Botts' beans and a large quantity of lint. He chucked one of the beans at Harry and hit him on the forehead. "Dare you to eat that. I bet they've been in this weird old tube since before our parents were born."

Harry threw it back at him, catching him on the nose. "Probably even longer," he replied, remembering. _Alas, earwax._ He shook his head as if to clear it. "And Dumbledore looked the same in that memory as he did during the first memories he showed me, so it must have happened in the '30s or '40s."

Hermione's head shot up at that. "_Grindelwald_," she said. "Of _course_, Harry, don't you see? Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald in 1945. That's how he knew firsthand about Horcruxes -- Grindelwald must have had one, and Dumbledore figured out how to destroy it! But Voldemort had so many more, and Dumbledore was so much older this time --"

"Do you think one of the memories in the Pensieve is his defeat of Grindelwald?" Ron asked excitedly.

"I just hope one of the memories tells me how to destroy the other Horcruxes when I find them," Harry said, closing the drawer with the parchment and opening the one beneath it, which turned out to be entirely full of sweets. Harry closed it as soon as he was sure that was all it contained. The longer he was here, the more he missed Dumbledore, and the more he resented the sleeping portrait on the wall.

Ron and Hermione weren't having any better success. The other cabinets were mostly empty; although there were a few trinkets here and there, most of these were encased in tartan cozies. "Does McGonagall have anything that _isn't_ plaid?" Ron asked.

After another hour, Harry felt like he couldn't take anymore. "I think Dumbledore's things have pretty much been cleaned out," he finally said. "Besides, anything that important is probably in some sort of secret compartment."

One of the previous headmasters snorted.

"We could have told you that much," drawled the voice of Phineas Nigellus, though as usual he was absent from his frame. "Students are insolent and arrogant. They always think they can figure it all out on their own, that they don't need help."

Harry gave the portrait an annoyed glance. "So what if we ask for help, then?"

Phineas Nigellus edged into the frame and leaned against the side, studying his fingernails. "Surely one cannot be expected to attend to matters better suited to house elves. Why should we pay attention to the location of each successive Headmaster's personal belongings?"

"But what about secret compartments?"

The portrait shrugged elegantly. "I'm sure I couldn't say." He slid out of the frame, and Harry threw a series of lemon sherbets at the portrait in sheer frustration.

"And that certainly isn't helping your cause," called Phineas Nigellus from wherever he was.

Harry kicked the desk furiously, half hoping that a secret compartment would spring open like it always did in films. It didn't, of course, and only left him with a sore toe.

"So now what do we do?" said Hermione.

Ron flopped onto his back in the middle of the room and stared at the ceiling. "Have dinner?" he suggested. Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry, who was busy scowling at the desk.

Ron tried a nonverbal Patronus Charm and looked exceptionally pleased with himself when the Jack Russell terrier started gamboling around the ceiling, sniffing and yipping excitedly. Then, suddenly, he scrambled to his feet. "Oi, Harry, look at that! Watch where the Patronus is sniffing -- it's a trap door in the ceiling!" He climbed up onto the desk and used his lit wand to trace a circular crack. "See, there? And there are the hinges!"

Harry whirled around to the portraits. Only Dumbledore's remained asleep; the others were all gaping at him or rushing to one another's frames to whisper urgently. "What's up there?" Harry demanded. "How do we open it?"

"Now, now," said Armando Dippet, soothingly, "let's not be hasty --"

"Why not? What's up there?"

The other headmasters' voices rose in a clamor, talking over one another and being uniformly unhelpful. Ignoring them, Harry climbed on top of the desk with Ron and pointed his wand at the ceiling. "Alohomora!" he shouted, just as Hermione started to say something, and then the ceiling panel descended slowly to hover next to his feet.

The headmasters went silent.

"I didn't really think that would work," Harry admitted. He looked up at the portraits; even Phineas Nigellus was transfixed. "So what is this? Tell me."

"It is the entrance to the Headmaster's private chambers," said Professor Dippet. "But it is only supposed to open for the current Head. Minerva is still using her old quarters, and those will be just as Dumbledore left them. He must have wanted you to find your way in."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared up at the hole in the ceiling, then climbed onto the panel, clutching each other close to keep their balance as it lifted them into Dumbledore's living quarters.

::

It was lucky Dumbledore hadn't hidden the book, Harry thought. He didn't know if he could have borne tearing apart this comfortable, shabby room; he already felt like he was invading Dumbledore's privacy simply by being here, and his sense of grief was becoming almost unbearable. Happily for him, Hermione found the shabby volume they were looking for; it was sitting on the mantel along with a sealed envelope with Harry's name written on it.

"We're really going to do this," Harry said.

"Yeah, mate," Ron replied. "Told you there would be more directions from Dumbledore."

But Hermione had been eyeing him anxiously. "Harry, are you all right?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, let's go eat, and then we can come back here tomorrow if we need to."

They left the room, Harry clutching the book, Ron and Hermione clutching Harry.  


**Author's Note:**

> The deleted framing narrative for "Know Your Enemy," which was originally meant to be a series of Pensieve scenes of Dumbledore's fight against Grindelwald, mirroring scenes of Harry, Ron, and Hermione researching and destroying Horcruxes. This would have been the first Pensieve scene in that longer work.
> 
> The title comes from _The Comedy of Errors_ 5.1.315-17: "Yet hath my night of life some memory, / My wasting lamps some fading glimmer left, / My dull deaf ears a little use to hear."


End file.
